by ich du
'I tasted his blood.' Victor Guttman rasped, his head jerking up as he strained against his chains, all trace of the man gone. 'I want more!'
Guttman twisted and jerked, tugging at the chains that bound him, but there was no escape.
'No.' Skellan said softly. 'I told you I was here to kill you, consider this my promise delivered.' With that he stood, collected his silver knife and slipped it into the boot sheath, the gesture itself a mocking bow to the beast chained to the cold stone wall.
He walked slowly up the stairs, the creature raging in the darkness he left behind.
Fischer was waiting at the crypt's entrance, his face grim. He held a bottle in his hand, a rag stuffed into its mouth. He passed it to Skellan who lit the end with the last of his candle's dwindling flame.
Together they stood at the huge wooden door, the cocktail of lamp oil and fire burning in Skellan's hand. He tossed it deep into the body of the temple where the glass shattered off the statue of Sigmar. Flames licked at the stonework, tongues of blue heat lashing out to consume the wooden seats. Skellan and Fischer backed out from the intense heat as the conflagration took hold and consumed the temple.
He turned to the younger priest, Messner, who had begged his help.
'The beast is dead.'
'But...'
'There are no buts, the beast's evil cannot survive the fire. It is done. Deliver payment to Herr Hollenfeuer's wine cellar.'
'How can we pay? We have nothing left. You've destroyed everything we ever had!'
Skellan shook his head sadly. 'No, young sir, you did that. I am merely the tool you chose for its destruction. Do not blame the sword for the soldier's death, blame the man wielding it.'
VIII
HIGH ABOVE THE blaze, three men stood watching the towering inferno with perverse delight.
Vlad von Carstein, the vampire count of Sylvania, watched the flames intently. Beside him, Herman Posner turned to his man, Sebastian Aigner: 'Go out and feed. Make sure the fools down there know that they killed an innocent man. I want the knowledge to tear them apart.'
Aigner nodded. 'It will be as you wish.' 'Poor, stupid, cattle.' Posner said, a slow smile spreading across his face. 'This place promises a lot of sport, my lord.'
Von Carstein said nothing, content to watch the Sigmarite temple turn to ashes and smoke.
Scanned, layouted and proof-read by Mon
Version 1.2